Secret Thoughts of a Puppeteer
by Koneko-Haru-chan
Summary: Puppeteers. No one knows what really goes through Sabaku no Kankuro's mind. And his thoughts of a certain other puppeteer. What are they? read and find out. oneshot?


**Secret Thoughts of a Puppeteer**

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**Summary: **Puppeteers. No one knows what really goes through Sabaku no Konkuro's mind. And his thoughts of a certain other puppeteer. What are they? read and find out.

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**Author's Note:** I wrote this in class today when I was done with all of my work and extremely bored. I had nothing to work on! I hope you enjoy this odd-ball creation!

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What is it about that man that made him so beautiful?

Why did he even _think_ that he was beautiful?

He shouldn't,

that man was a criminal

and he was the brother of the Kazekage.

And he was loyal to his village, not some traitor who killed his leader like the man had.

But that man - that man was everything every puppeteer dreamed of being.

To have that level of skill.

To have that sort of control.

For the puppets to follow your comands so flawlessly.

That man was half puppet, becoming his very own art.

And he was beautiful.

So very beautiful.

And deadly,

just like a battle puppet.

Truth be told, he was obsessed slightly with the man.

Any and all of those puppets the man had left behind or abandoned, he took them and restored them to their previous splendor.

Or finished them.

He used that man's puppets on the battlefield.

He danced with those man's puppets secretly in his room, with all of the curtains drawn and the door locked.

As a child, when he would hide from the "monster", he read history books and scrolls about the man.

The greatest puppeteer.

He had even found several of the man's sketch books, filled and overflowing with puppet designs.

For him as a child it was like finding unwatched cookies that he hid away beneath his floorboards.

His own little secret.

And he loved him.

he wanted to be just like the man.

Just as skilled.

Just as artistic.

Just as great of a puppeteer.

He practically worshipped the man's skill and beauty.

He was amazing.

And every little thing he did, he compared himself to the man.

He was never as skilled and his work was never as beautiful as the man's, but he kept progressing.

The man's puppets were divine.

The woodwork of the figures so delicate and the poisons so toxic.

Everything perfect.

Just the smallest of hits ment death for a foe.

And then in his rage for the Akatsuki harming his beloved brother and leader, he lashed out with intent to kill the man with his own creations.

Merely toys to the man himself.

The man's true identity unknown until the end, thanks to his battle puppet shell,

with him defeated,

lying on the sand,

poison pulsing in his veins.

When he learned the man's name it felt as if his heart was being ripped in two.

He had attacked the man he most respected.

And it hurt.

It hurt so much to think that the man he idolized had attacked his brother,

tried to destroy his village,

and had been attacked by him.

he almosted wished he could have died from the toxin at that moment.

But no, he survived.

The pink-haired kunoichi had brought him back from the slow walk towards death.

Then the man was gone.

Dead.

Killed by the kunoichi and Elder Chiyo.

It broke his heart.

The man he respected was dead.

The man he had almost loved in a twisted sort of way was dead.

Dead.

And in the dark, still night he shead silent tears for Akatsuna no Sasori, the puppet master.

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**Please reveiw! and vote if you want me to add on to this story in any way---you'll have to tell me what you have in mind. Review! I loves reviewss!**

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